


Time is ticking away

by Kanae



Category: Free!
Genre: Blue Prompt, Day 4, M/M, aka rin and haru spend one last night together before rin leaves to Australia, haru struggles to understand himself as per usual, long distance, or rather the lead-up to that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-27
Updated: 2015-11-27
Packaged: 2018-05-03 16:19:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5297993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kanae/pseuds/Kanae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Haru knows—has known ever since he woke up to find Rin sitting cross-legged on the floor by the bed, double-checking his passport and ticket with the light from the sunrise filtering through the window, that the clock is ticking away to a goodbye. </p><p>But still, he doesn’t know what it is that he wants to say. He doesn’t know it now, and he didn’t know it any better, then; when he curled up on himself and quietly watched Rin, followed the motions of his fingers, traced the contours of his eyebrows as they furrowed or stretched, heart swelling in his chest.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Time is ticking away

**Author's Note:**

> This is based on the beginning of what would've been an humongous post!ES one-shot, but since that's apparently never going to get written, I went back to my notes and rewrote everything so that it could stand on its own. Still, it's in a way a lead-up to [If you let my soul out](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5141504). 
> 
> Happy RinHaru Week '15, everyone!

## Time is ticking away;

 

When they land in Tokyo, Haru isn’t as surprised as Makoto is when Rin replies to his ‘ _At what time does your flight to Australia leave, Rin? Haru and I can keep you company meanwhile, if you want’_ with a playful grin and shameless ‘ _Who says I’m leaving today? Since we’re all here, I thought I may as well spend the night; I haven’t seen your new places yet!’_

 _‘Haru, you knew about this?’_ Makoto asks, mortified, and Haru shakes his head. _No_. But, truth is, a part of him has been waiting for Rin to auto-invite himself ever since they signed the contract with their respective landlords. Haru just wishes Rin had the decency to let them know in advance, maybe then his apartment would be more than just a fortress of boxes.

Makoto seems to be thinking something along the same lines, because he offers Rin an apologetic smile. “Sorry, Rin. I can take you there, but the contract said I shouldn’t have anyone sleepover for the first three months. My landlord is, uh,” he scratches his nose, smiles nervously at the floor, “a little… strict. _Very_ kind, though! Really!”

“ _Haaah,_ seriously?” Rin turns towards Haru, expression dry. “You too, Haru?”

“No. You can stay over,” Haru says, “If you want.”

Rin blinks. And then, just as swiftly as it fell, the smile is back on his face. “Guess we’ll have one last sleepover before I leave, after all, huh?” He chuckles softly, pulling on his cap, and something uncomfortable curls around the edges of Haru’s mind. He stays there, silent and tight-lipped until Rin throws an arm around his shoulder and pushes him along; but while his feet move, Haru isn’t really listening to their conversation.

Instinctively, he knows what it is, even though he has tried to not give it much thought. It was much easier to ignore two days ago though, when nothing beyond the five of them and the cherry-blossom filled pool seemed to matter. And it becomes easier to sidestep now that he thinks back to it and can almost feel the phantom petals clinging to his skin, pick up the scent of flowers and chlorine from the air.

And with it comes another memory; one that has been drifting in and out his mind like a stream of wine-colored consciousness.

 

_Haru doesn’t know for how long he has been this way, floating aimlessly without a care in the world. So immersed he is in his contentment, that he doesn’t notice Rin has gone suspiciously silent until he bumps into something._

_When he (unwillingly) allows his eyes to part open, he finds Rin looking down at him. Rin hasn’t bothered to pull back his hair, so it’s framing his face like a curtain and dripping down on Haru’s own, an unintended call-back to the tears he no longer has any reasons to shed._

_“So, what do you think?” He asks, grin stretching impossibly wide—and Haru doesn’t quite get the playful glint in those red eyes of his until he adds, “Romantic, right?”_

_For a breath, Haru’s mind goes blank and he forgets to tread water. And then the blankness becomes something warm, something that draws an amused smile across his lips._

He remembers. _Haru does, too; can still see Rin leaning forward and searching his gaze, feel his smile, hear his voice—and so he knows only too well how he is expected to react._

_Yet, rather than pressing together, his lips part._

_“_ Yeah _.”_

_Rin’s eyes go wide and a look that Haru can’t quite place flickers through them, like candlelight. It makes something in Haru stir in turn, but before he can even register the feeling, there’s a splash and he has to turn on his back to avoid swallowing a mouthful of water._

_Rin—_ the culprit _—roars with laughter, propels himself backward and_ Haru _—Haru gives chase._

_Suddenly, there’s uproar around them. Someone throws them a pair of goggles. Haru fastens them without thinking—and just like that, they’re in the middle of one of their impromptu competitions. Racing in the pool of cherry blossoms that Rin had once wished to swim in; the pool of cherry blossoms that at some point became a desire for Haru, too—unexplainably, without him realizing it._

_And as Haru levels himself with Rin—as their eyes meet and he sees the trail of blossoms Rin is leaving in his wake, Haru has to bite his bottom lip to keep the laughter from coming up his throat like sea foam._

 

It occurs to him, then, that it is going to be the last race he will have with Rin for a while.

And for the first time since Rin announced his plans to go back to Australia—for the first time since Haru took the offer to train with a team in Tokyo, Haru allows himself to wonder just how long that _a_ _while_ will be.

 

* * *

 

 

It’s a little past six in the afternoon when Rin rings the doorbell without Makoto in tow. Haru is a little surprised Makoto agreed to let Rin come on his own, but then again, Rin always knew how to have his way.

The three of them parted ways at the airport; Haru took Rin’s luggage with him to his apartment, while Makoto took Rin himself to show him around the zone he will be living in. Those few hours were enough for Haru to quietly work through some boxes; at the very least, he has his tea-set unpacked and cleaned, plus a few extra dishes. He even finished setting up the small dining table his parents bought him.

There is something he wasn’t able to find, though, and he gave up midway during the fifth box.

Trust Rin to ask about that first. “So, where am I going to sleep?”

For a moment, Haru considers telling him about the missing guest futon. But he figures there is no point in wasting effort when the answer should be obvious enough; so Haru settles for giving a rather pointed look to the one and only bed available in his one and only bedroom.

Soon enough, Rin’s eyebrow is twitching. “You can’t be serious.”

Haru doesn’t quite see why he wouldn’t be. “It wouldn’t be the first time.”

“That was a _double_ bed!”

“It won’t matter once you’re as—”

“How the hell am I supposed to sleep if there’s an elbow digging into my back!?”

Haru has no sensible retort to that, so he resorts to glaring Rin down in kind. The familiarity of the situation feels like déjà vu, takes him back to Australia; makes him feel an echo of contentment not quite yet forgotten wash over him. It takes the fight out of him, and Haru can’t help but wonder if he will ever stop associating Australia with that feeling.

“Fine,” Haru says, holding back a sigh, “You can have the bed.”

If he expects Rin to be pleased with that, he is wrong. “Huh?”

“You’re the one with a 10 hour flight to catch.”

Rin shifts, brows furrowing with something between irritation and concern. “Where will _you_ sleep?” The concern all but evaporates when he catches the almost unconscious glance Haru throws to the bathroom. “You’re _not_ sleeping in the damn bathtub.”

Haru turns sideways, can’t hold back what looks suspiciously like a pout. “Didn’t say I was.”

“Not like you needed to!”

After several moments of what seems to be Rin waving a war within himself, he winds up sighing. “ _Fine_ , whatever. We’ll share.” Haru looks up at that, but Rin isn’t meeting his eyes. “Just stick to your side, alright?”

Even from where he is standing, Haru can see Rin’s ears have gone red. Somehow, he finds it endearing; enough to have to hide the smile that takes over his lips when he says, “Right.”

 

* * *

 

They’re almost done having dinner (grilled mackerel, to a suspicious absence of Rin’s complaints) when Rin lets out a _crap, almost forgot!_ and scrambles to fish something out of his travel-bag. Haru eyes him curiously while finishing his tea, and is more than a little confused when Rin says a _here_ , and unceremoniously pushes a piece of paper towards him.

Haru barely gives it a glance, preferring to look at Rin instead. “What’s this?”

Rin leans forward on his elbows, smirks long and wide, “What does it look like? A regime!”

Sure enough, now that Haru actually bothers to look at the paper, he can make out the unmistakable signs of Rin’s signature land-training; from his mandatory six-am jogs to the weight-lifting he seems to love so much. In fact, he can even see what seems to be a line-up for a carbo diet.

Haru can’t help but to arch an eyebrow at that. Rin snorts.

“You will have to put on some muscle if you wanna beat me, y’know?”

“Hn, not like I’ve ever needed to,” Haru retorts easily, and has to hold back a smile at Rin’s (predictably) affronted yelp. “I thought having someone to oversee this for me was the point of getting a trainer in the first place,” he adds, but he has yet to let go of the regime.

“Well, yeah,” Rin agrees, straightening and massaging the back of his neck, eyes focused elsewhere. “But I won’t be here to drag you around so, you know… just wanted to make sure you’ll stay at the top of your game even when you’re not swimming, too.”

  _I won’t be here to drag you around, so_.

Somehow, that seems to be the only thing Haru digests, and with it comes back that uncomfortable curl of what could only be described as some sort of ache; bittersweet and awfully familiar.

It pulses like a being, lodges in his throat; the tangible, unavoidable knowledge that he is going to miss Rin.

It’s stupid, Haru knows. There is no point in feeling this way, least of all a reason; he and Rin have the same dream, are aiming towards the same world. Haru knows that wherever the wind takes him, Rin will be there; standing by his side, ready to dive. He has never felt closer to Rin than he does now, ever since Haru stood in that diving block in Australia and realized this is what he wanted to do for the rest of his life.

To keep on swimming. To swim in that world, for himself, with Rin. Forever.

That’s why, not seeing Rin for a couple of months should make no difference. He won’t be seeing Nagisa or Rei until Golden Week. Even Makoto he will be lucky to see at least a couple of times per month. And while it makes him feel a pang of nostalgia, he is okay with all of it; has made peace with it, knows he has nothing to worry about. That it’s all part of growing up, that their bonds won’t be affected nor by time nor by distance.

So then— _why_ is it that the thought of Rin being gone by tomorrow still causes an odd sort of sadness make a knot out of his chest?

“So obviously,” Rin continues, and with a start, Haru realizes he hasn’t heard a word Rin has said. “You _have_ to change your diet, too. No point in trusting you to do it though, so I left a copy at Makoto’s.”

 _That_ catches Haru’s attention, and he is thankful for the distraction. “You shouldn’t have done that. Makoto will have enough on his plate as it is.”

Rin seizes the opportunity, “I know,” he drawls, and boldly leers at him. “Wouldn’t want to bother him, would you?”

The knot tightens. Suddenly, he can’t bear to look at Rin; so he gathers up their plates, gets up from the table. “Let’s go to sleep. You can shower first.”

When Rin has locked himself in the bathroom, water running, Haru grips the regime tightly; burns each stroke of Rin’s calligraphy into his mind with the same diligence with which he memorized his smile.

* * *

 

For what feels like an eternity, Rin is so silent that Haru would have thought he fell asleep on record time—but it just so happens that he is also _so_ perfectly still, Haru is starting to think Rin is trying to find out for how long he can hold his breath instead.

“Can’t you move back?” Rin croaks at last, and he actually does sounds slightly out of breath. 

Haru figures there’s no point in even trying to understand that. “Not unless you want me to become one with the wall.” 

“Right. You’re saving that for water,” Rin mutters dryly, and Haru would’ve given him a look if only he could afford turning around without throwing Rin off the bed. 

Another wave of silence rolls over them, but Haru knows this is just the calm before the storm. Sure enough, soon Rin lets out a pitiful groan. “Ugh, this isn’t working.” 

Haru closes his eyes and lets out an almost imperceptible sigh. He hates to admit it, but Rin is right. Their backs are pressed flat against each other to the point some of Rin’s bones are digging into his skin, and despite that Haru still has his nose practically buried in the (cold) wall. 

Tiredness has been taking its toll on him ever since he took his bath, but he doesn’t think he will be able to get much sleep like this. That is fine with him, though; he can afford it. 

Rin, however, can’t. 

But then again, not like Haru can leave him the bed without Rin feeling guilty about it. So, he guesses they will just have to find a way to make it work. 

“Stay still”. 

“Hmm?” 

Haru rolls over as carefully as he possibly can, ignoring Rin’s scandalized _what are you doing?!_ and molds himself to Rin; tucks his knees into Rin’s folded ones and makes sure to lay his forearms against Rin’s back to keep some semblance of distance between their bodies, mostly for Rin’s peace of mind. 

He waits several moments for Rin to protest against their new arrangement, absentmindedly staring at the nape of his neck. When he doesn’t, Haru feels strangely compelled to whisper the obvious by way of explanation, “We have more space, now.” 

A shiver runs down Rin’s spine, reverberates through Haru’s arms, gives him gooseflesh. And Haru wonders if Rin is cold; and if he is, he wonders _how_ —how, when he is so impossibly _warm_. So warm in fact that Haru feels his own skin burn, overpowering the coldness digging into his back.  

“Right,” Rin mutters at last, and the sound of his voice only seems to empower the warmth. 

It lulls Haru to sleep, makes his eyes slide shut; and so he is almost surprised when he hears himself speak, even more so when he notices the smile coloring his words, “…Goodnight, Rin.” 

By the time Rin replies, voice so soft that it barely grazes his ears, Haru can’t be sure if he is really awake or if it’s just a figment of his imagination, detaching itself from a faraway dream. 

“…Night, Haru.” 

* * *

 

 “Take care of yourself, Rin!” 

“You too, Makoto! Study hard but don’t overdo it, okay?” 

Makoto chuckles, equal parts grateful and sheepish. “Hehe, I will try not to!” 

Rin sighs with mock exasperation, playfully knocks on Makoto’s shoulder, “Geez, the kids will get scared if you coach them looking like the dead.” 

Makoto laughs nervously, and then the both of them are looking at Haru. He didn’t say much on the way to the airport, but with the other two filling the silence with small chatter, his quietness hadn’t felt nearly as pregnant as it does now. 

Haru knows—has known ever since he woke up to find Rin sitting cross-legged on the floor by the bed, double-checking his passport and ticket with the light from the sunrise filtering through the window, that the clock is ticking away to a goodbye. 

But still, _he_ —he doesn’t know what it is that he wants to say. He doesn’t know it now, and he didn’t know it any better, _then_ ; when he curled up on himself and quietly watched Rin, followed the motions of his fingers, traced the contours of his eyebrows as they furrowed or stretched, heart swelling in his chest. 

He knows that he should say something meaningful. Something like _Work hard_ or _I’ll see you soon_ or _I’ll be fine_ or even a _Make sure you don’t fall behind_ ; that last one would get a rise out of Rin, maybe even enough to make him stall and bicker with him until Makoto has to remind him that he is supposed to go _and_ —well, wouldn’t that be nice? 

Except Haru’s throat closes up and he stands there, lips parted and hands limp at his sides—and none of the many things he _could_ say seem to want to come out. They’re there, jumbled in the depths of his throat; a mess of words and thoughts and feelings that he wouldn’t be able to pick apart even if he wanted to. 

At the end, all he can muster is a, “Say hi to Lori and Russell for me.” 

Rin smiles, gaze going soft. “I will,” then he tilts his head to the side, bangs falling across his eyes, and adds, “Heh, you sure you’ve got the hang of Skype?” 

“Yeah,” he almost expects his voice to sound raspy; is half-surprised when it doesn’t. “Nagisa taught us when he and Rei came to help us move Makoto’s things.” 

“Nice, just keep going at it until you’ve got it, okay? We won’t have time to send letters, so that will have to do,” Rin is teasing him; it’s obvious from the playful smirk on his face, the amused quirk to his voice. 

 _We never did send any_ _,_ is what Haru would like to say. “Right,” is what comes out instead. Rin doesn’t seem to notice, busy as he is pulling out his passport from his handbag, but Haru can feel only too clearly the weight of Makoto’s understanding gaze. 

He pretends not to. 

“’kay, time to go. See ya Haru, Makoto!” Rin waves and starts towards the security checking. An oppression sets on his chest, squeezes it, makes Haru clench his fists, his lips part— _have a safe flight, call us when you land—_ yet the only thing that comes out of them is silence.

Makoto places a reassuring hand on his shoulder, puts another around his mouth and yells, “Have a safe flight, Rin! Let us know when you’ve landed!” 

Rin looks back, adds one more wave for good measure, “Sure!” but while Haru is grateful to Makoto, he does not feel relieved, and neither does the oppression lessen. 

He realizes, then, that he has something he wants to say for himself. It makes him give a step forward, eyes focused on Rin’s back—all the while struggling with trying to understand this suffocating _need_ to speak when he can’t for the life of him think of anything he hasn’t yet told Rin. He wishes words would come to him as easily as they do to Makoto or to Nagisa, wishes this would be easier. Wishes Rin _would_ — 

“Yo, Haru!”

Rin is standing before the gate, now—slowly turning back to face Haru. When his stare finds his already waiting one, a smile filled with conviction breaks across his face. “Next time we see each other, it should be as part of the National Team.” 

For a moment, Haru’s mind goes blank. Then the oppression lessens, dulls to an almost comforting lull, and he finds his lips quirking upwards, his gaze sharpening to a perfect mirror of Rin’s own. “That goes without saying.” 

And maybe Rin has shown him the way to the words he has been looking for—or maybe there is something still there _somewhere_ , trapped in the beatings of his heart—but Haru can’t really find it in himself to care; because the grin on Rin’s face is blazing and Haru just can’t look away. 

He stays rooted to his spot long after Rin disappears into the gates; stays as immutable as his smile, until Makoto comes to place a warm hand on his back and guides him to the exit. 


End file.
